


cracks

by mickeysupset



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: HUSBANDS!, M/M, Post-Season/Series 10, bedtime kisses!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26922517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeysupset/pseuds/mickeysupset
Summary: Ian usually counts the cracks on the ceiling when he can't sleep.Tonight, he has something so much better.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 39
Kudos: 279





	cracks

**Author's Note:**

> *brushes off five years of dust*
> 
> I recently discovered shameless twitter which reminded me of the good ol days of shameless tumblr which led me to rereading some of my favorite old fics which led me to falling in love with new fics which led to this.
> 
> Is is garbage? Probably. Was it fun to write about these two again? Absolutely.
> 
> thanks for reading this short, unedited piece of fluff that I couldn't get out of my head.

Ian counts the cracks in the ceiling of their bedroom.

He’s counted them before; he counts them pretty much every time he can’t sleep. He knows exactly where all 27 cracks are.

There is movement from the other side of the bed, but Ian ignores it in favor of continuing to stare at the ceiling. 

With a loud groan and a stretch, the occupant of the bed flips over to face Ian. Mickey cracks an eye open and lets out another groan at seeing Ian wide awake.

“Go to sleep man,” Mickey mumbles, sliding closer to Ian. He throws his arm over Ian’s bare chest and buries his head into his husband’s neck.

Despite his weariness, Ian’s spirit immediately lifts at the feeling of Mickey’s warmth on top of him.

It’s distracting. It’s what he needs right now.

Ian runs his hand up and down Mickey’s arm, pulling him tighter against him. He drops a kiss to the top of Mickey’s head and sighs.

“Sorry if I woke you,” Ian murmurs quietly into the dark room, his eyes going back to the cracks on the ceiling. He lets out another deep sigh and feels Mickey rise and fall with the movement of his chest.

Mickey shifts a little closer to him, his nose brushing against Ian’s pulse point.

“Could practically hear you thinking,” he says softly, “What are you even stewing about this fucking late?”

“Debbie, Lip, Terry, money-” Ian lists off all the thoughts plaguing his head. 

“Lions and tigers and bear, oh my.”

Ian can’t help but snort and he feels Mickey smile into his neck at the sound.

“You are so fucking lame.”

Ian reaches down and lightly tickles Mickey’s ribs, still snorting slightly at his husband’s stupid sense of humor.

Ian laughs a little louder as Mickey all but manhandles him down so they are laying side to side and face to face.

“You love it,” Mickey says, smiling as he brushes his lips against Ian’s.

“Maybe,” Ian whispers back teasingly, scooting forward to wrap his arms tighter around Mickey and press their lips more firmly together.

When Ian was younger, he dreamed of nights like this but honestly never thought it could happen. Even in their happiest times all those years ago, there had always been an undercurrent of uneasiness. Like any minute the ground could crack open under them and swallow them up.

It happened a couple of times, but they were able to come out the other side eventually.

It’s these quiet moments at night in their bed that make Ian still want to pinch himself. 

He and Mickey can have these sorts of moments now without having to worry about shit hitting the fan. They can have these moments forever.

Mickey leans forward and places a soft kiss on the end of Ian’s nose, once again breaking him from his thoughts.

“You need to stop overthinking shit,” He glances over Ian’s shoulder at the clock on their bedside table, “especially at three in the morning.”

Ian leans forward like Mickey and nuzzles their noses against each other.

“Was thinking about you this time.”

“Oh yeah?” Mickey teases, pulling away slightly to raise an eyebrow and smile wide at Ian.

“Yeah,” Ian confesses as he leans in again, this time pressing his lips softly against his husband’s.

They stay like that for a moment, doing nothing to further anything and nothing to pull apart.

Mickey moves his hands higher up his husband’s body until his fingers are carding through Ian’s hair. He starts to lightly scratch the back of Ian’s head causing him to moan softly against Mickey’s lips.

Ian pulls away slightly and runs his lips down Mickey’s cheek to his throat, placing kisses as he goes. He stops only to press his face into Mickey’s neck as Mickey’s scratches get a little bit harder.

He puts more pressure on Mickey until Mickey is on his back in bed and Ian is almost draped completely on top of him.

Ian can’t help but moan again.

It all feels _fucking good._

“You might as well start kicking your leg, you fucking puppy.” Mickey teases lightly though does nothing to stop his movements or push Ian off of him.

“Feels so good, Mick.”

Ian buries his face even further into Mickey’s neck, feeling his eyes grow heavier with each scratch of Mickey’s fingers. He is content to lay there and maybe finally fall asleep to the feeling until he feels a rumble from Mickey’s chest.

“Shut up,” Ian mumbles. “I’m sleeping.”

“I know,” Mickey says while still slightly chuckling. “I can feel you drooling all over me.”

“Deal with it. And keep scratching.”

Mickey lets out a groan like he’s so _fucking put upon_ but does as he’s told.

With Mickey’s fingers still running through his hair, Ian starts to feel sleep take over him once again.

Of course Mickey has to say _something._

“Am I going to have to do this every time you can’t sleep?”

Ian simply raises his left hand in the air. The light from the streetlamp outside their window shines a glint onto his wedding ring.

“You’re the one that put the ring on my finger.”

Ian wiggles his finger towards Mickey in order to drive his point home even further.

Mickey reaches up with a free hand and grabs Ian’s left hand. He doesn’t let go instantly, instead bringing their hands down to rest on his chest together.

“Is that excuse ever going to get old?” Mickey asks, his own fingers running over Ian’s wedding ring.

“Nope.”

Mickey’s fingers press a tad harder into Ian’s skill as he says, “True.”

They both seem content to lay there in silence until they both fall asleep, but an idea pops into Ian’s head.

“Tell me a story.”

Mickey’s hand stills and he grunts. 

“I thought you were sleeping, doofus.”

“You keep yapping. Now I’m wide awake.”

“You’re so fucking needy,” Mickey grouches. “You’re the one that woke me up in the first place and now I have to tell you a story? Not even Franny is this annoying at bedtime.”

“It’ll take my mind off of things,” Ian stops to nip at Mickey’s throat, “plus I like hearing your voice.”

He doesn’t see Mickey’s smile, but he can hear it in his voice. Doesn’t mean that Mickey doesn’t have something to say though.

“That’s cheesy, man.”

Ian pokes Mickey in the side, hoping he gets the signal to start his story.

Mickey is silent for a few long moments. Ian starts to think he is going to ignore Ian’s request before he hears Mickey start to speak.

“Once upon a ti-”

Ian sits straight up, cutting Mickey off. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Mick. You can’t start a story off that way.”

Mickey cocks his head and stares at Ian dismayed.

“It’s my fucking story. I can start it anyway I want.”

He and Ian stare each other down before Ian relents. He settles back down into his previous position and waits for Mickey to continue. “Anything to help me sleep.”

“You could just try to shut your eyes. Works for me.” Mickey’s fingers are back in Ian’s hair, returning to scratching. “If you keep babbling over me, you’re not gonna get your fuckin’ story.”

“Mickeyyyyy,” Ian all but whines.

“Iannnnn.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“You like me.”

“I can’t remember why right now.”

Mickey kisses Ian’s forehead again, completely ignoring the light insult.

“Once upon a time-” Mickey stops when Ian snorts into his neck before quickly following it up with a “Sorry.”

“Once upon a time-”

“Mick,” Ian says, once again cutting his husband off even though he promised not to.

“What did I just say?” Mickey huffs.

Ian simply presses a light kiss to Mickey’s chest and ignores his outburst. 

“Love you.”

He presses another kiss on Mickey, hoping Mickey can also hear the “Thank you” in his tone.

This time, it’s Mickey that sighs deeply, though Ian can feel his smile against the top of his head. Mickey wraps his arm just a tad tighter around Ian. He doesn’t say “You’re welcome,” but Ian can hear it anyway.

Years ago, when Ian still had dreams about joining the army, when Mickey was still trapped under his dad’s thumb, all Ian had ever wanted was to tell Mickey how he fucking felt and to have Mickey tell him the same thing in return.

Now, when Ian can hold Mickey’s hand in public, when Mickey can kiss Ian in front of their whole family without a care in the world… well, Ian doesn’t need words. Mickey doesn’t need words.

Mickey willing to stay up in the middle of the night and cater to Ian tells him all that he needs to hear.

“Can I continue my story now, bitch?” 

Mickey says the last word almost like it’s an afterthought, almost like he wants to keep up some sort of passive resistance to this whole thing.

As Ian shuffles briefly to try and get as comfortable as possible, he catches a glance at the cracks in the ceiling he had been counting not too long ago.

Mickey starts to speak again, and Ian closes his eyes.

He doesn’t need the cracks to help him sleep tonight after all.

Tonight, he was something much better.

**Author's Note:**

> @elbmark


End file.
